


So Keep Me Alive

by noxlacrimae



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: FAHC, Fake AH Crew, Gen, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Trans Jack, this is a thing that suddenly took over my brain and I had to write, this is unedited and very o k
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 18:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11041782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxlacrimae/pseuds/noxlacrimae
Summary: The Fakes don't die. Or they don't stay dead. Or something like that. Nobody knows, and Jeremy isn't going to ask for specifics.aka Jeremy joins the Immortal FAHC.





	So Keep Me Alive

In Los Santos everyone knew that The Fakes crew were something beyond any current understanding. Most people said they were just lucky, dodged every shot that came their way, couldn’t be held down by authority or enemy long enough for their lives to be ended. In some ways, that was certainly true. In others, not so much. There were too many members of law enforcement, of rival gangs, even in the Crew’s own B Team that had seen the main crew walk away from something impossible, something that not even the greatest amount of luck could get you though. The whispered rumors that ran through the city said something closer to the truth. It wasn’t that the Fakes couldn’t be killed, it was more that when you did kill them, death just never stuck. 

When Jeremy had been invited to join the Main crew, he had been excited but incredibly nervous. The main crew was a fine tuned five member machine. They had never taken on anyone else, in all the time that Jeremy had known of them or worked for them. Even once he had accepted their invitation and started to work with them, there was one question that just wouldn’t stop circling his thoughts. Jeremy knew that the Fakes were... different from most. He couldn’t help but feel that he was the odd one out, and he was worried about what would happen when they started running jobs. Everyone would know that he wasn’t like the rest of them. He was basically painting a target on himself. He had known that when he took the offer of course. Now he was just trying to come to terms with it.

There’s one question that he just really wanted an answer to. So logically, the first person Jeremy asks is Ryan. It’s one of their first missions together and Ryan is in full Vagabond, silent assassin mode. When Jeremy asks they're sitting in the cold rain, on a roof across the street from Ryan’s target. As the target shuffles around the hotel room, Jeremy finally works up the nerve to pose the question that has been burning a hole inside of him. 

"What does it look like when you die?" 

Ryan doesn’t move, his eyes never straying from their target as he responds. “It doesn’t look like anything. Death is cold and dark. You don’t expect it, and then you’re falling, staring at the cop who got off a lucky shot on you as you crash to the asphalt and it all goes black.” As he spoke in his disturbingly measured and calm voice, he aligned his sniper rifle, lining up the shot and going still as he looked down the sight of the gun. “It’s just dark and you’re freezing and then suddenly you’re not.” He took a deep breath, pausing as he fired a single bullet with precision accuracy, his target crumpling to the floor across the road. “Then you realize you’re not dead anymore and you get to stand up and see the look on that fucking cop’s face as you shoot him right between the eyes.” Jeremy couldn’t think of anything to say as Ryan looked over at him, eyes cold and a small, triumphant smile on his face. "I'll tell you what it feels like. It feels like power."

 

  
Their car swerved violently as Jeremy tried with every fiber of his being to keep the car on the ground and ahead of the cops. In an attempt to distract himself from panicking he just started talking. “Michael, what does it look like when you die?” Michael grinned at him from the passenger’s seat, as he leaned out the window to fire at their pursuers. “It looks like a goddamn explosion usually.” When it didn’t seem like he would continue, Jeremy prompted tensely. “That’s it? There’s gotta be more that that.” Michael snorted. “I’m serious! It really is just like an explosion! Y’know like fuckin’ blinding lights and shit? It really hurts, like everything aches for a second and then before you know it, you’re up and runnin’, everyone thinks you’re gone but you’re not!” Michael jumped up then, standing up through the sunroof and throwing grenades and insults both with equal vigor. Suddenly they both heard a faint “Incoming!” over the intercom, and Michael laughed, shouting “BOOOOOM! Take that fuckers!” still celebrating as the police choppers crashed to the ground in pieces all around them. “Lil J, take us home! We have a successful heist to celebrate!”

 

It was the first time since Jeremy had joined the main Crew that someone had died. They hadn’t even been getting into any serious trouble, but then they had swerved a little too close to the military base and before anyone even noticed the jet Jack had been flying loops in burst into flames. The feeling of his stomach dropping down into his knees when he realized the fire ball crashing to the mountain side had been Jack’s jet. What made it worse was that they had been forced to run, the need to lose any unwanted attention outweighing the need to go retrieve Jack as soon as possible. While part of the crew had flown off to take the heat away from the base, Jeremy and Ryan had been sent to take a nondescript car from the garage and retrieve Jack.

Jack had just woken up when Jeremy broached the question to her. She blinked then smiled. “It feels good actually. Well I mean, bullets or knives or bombs or whatever kills you, that hurts like a bitch.” She stretched and then gingerly stood up from the bed, looking as if she hadn’t been cold to the touch moments before. “But once you are dead, for real? That’s some good shit. Everything just… stops for a while, and you start to relax a bit. Then everything goes white and you’re waking up in your own bed when the last thing you remember is the feeling of a bullet in your neck.” She laughed rubbed the back of her neck, searching for a scar that wasn’t there. “To be honest with you Jeremy? Death looks nice.” 

 

Geoff slammed his empty glass down on the table and stared at it a moment before filling it up again. “Jeremy, I gotta tell you little dude-” “Don’t call me little.” Jeremy slurred across from him. The penthouse was empty, most of the crew out running last minute errands for the heist that they would be pulling tomorrow. Geoff had offered some of his extensive liquor cabinet to Jeremy, and Jeremy was never one to turn down a drink, or four, or seven. “Sorry, I gotta tell you lil’ J,” Geoff said as he stood, moving closer to Jeremy. “I hope you never find out what it’s like to die.” Jeremy laughed. “Well it’s gonna happen eventually Geoff. Besides, I’m not worried. Jack said it’s nice.” Geoff frowned at him. He didn’t look half as drunk as he should for the amount of alcohol that had to be flowing through his system. 

He leaned over and placed his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “listen, I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure that eventually never happens. And Jack doesn’t know what she’s talking about. When you’re as old as we are, it’s not so bad. But the first time you see death? Hoo boy, you start screaming and don’t stop till you wake up.” Jeremy couldn’t hold in his laughter at the image of Geoff waking up from a death screaming his lungs out. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up kid. If you were as old as I am you’d understand. Death should be a one time thing. When you have to see it over and over, that’s something else.” Jeremy grabbed another beer from the table, downing it as he said “Well good thing I only have to see it once then.” Geoff moved back to the other side of the table, looking at Jeremy over his whiskey, eyes somewhat sad behind their always-tired expression. “Yeah, good thing.” 

 

They were pressed close together, sharing the tiny space besides dumpster as they held their breath waiting for the police to go by. The escape of the heist had gone worse than usual, and they were trying to get a new plan going on the fly. “Gav, Jeremy, you guys should be clear in about 15 seconds. Go for it, Jack is gonna pull up the car 2 alleys east.” Trevor advised over the com. “Got it.” they whispered. Once the alley was clear, the two of them took off in a sprint, Gavin in front and Jeremy close behind. They were nearly clear when shouts rang out behind them, prompting a flurry of curses over the intercom. Then suddenly, Jeremy stumbled, pain blossoming through his chest and stomach. “Jeremy!” he heard Gavin shriek as he stood and tried to keep going. So this is what Jack had meant about the hurting like a bitch part of dying. But they couldn’t stop, so he pushed forward, Gavin supporting him as best he could while Michael had appeared from somewhere in the maze of buildings and was drawing police fire. “Go go go go go! Get him out of here!” Jeremy heard him screaming through the coms. 

Everything was hazy as he leaned on Gavin and they stumbled toward the street where Jack would be waiting. “Gav....” “What is it Lil J?” Gavin said tensely, glancing over with panic in his eyes. “What’s it like to die?” Gavin burst into a nervous laugh. “You can’t just ask a question like that Jeremy!” He glanced at him again, and Jeremy faded in and out as he looked at Gavin. He thought about how the golden boy wasn’t Gavin, not really. The cold and confident veneer was a safety mechanism, the way that Gavin made it through the hell that was Los Santos. The golden boy was ruthless in a way that the real Gavin wasn’t. He was so different when he was himself, the way no one outside of the Crew got to see, the real Gavin cared about his crew and told shitty jokes and was always worried more about others than himself. As Jeremy tried to focus on Gavin’s face, he saw that he was talking but  
couldn’t hear the words, so he said again “Gavin…. Tell me what it’s like when you die.” His vision faded and he heard Gavin whisper, “It’s warm and cozy. But you can never stay. You can’t stay Jeremy. Please don’t stay.”

 

"We need you to come back."

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by the GTA Let's Play -Tiny Racers. Jeremy said what does it look like to die once and this mess happens. *shrug*


End file.
